


With a Capital R

by oneletterdiff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Divorce, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, R plus L equals J, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneletterdiff/pseuds/oneletterdiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhaegar aches for some deeper form of passion that he's never head, but he's content with his marriage to Elia. Then he meets Brandon's younger sister, and suddenly he's a lot less satisfied with his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.1

Sometimes Rhaegar tires of the seemingly endless questions.

_What is it like to only be a few years older than some of the students you’re teaching? How did you land a job as a college professor so quickly after finishing your Ph.D.? Is hard balancing work and life as a new father?_

He always has the same answers.

_Sometimes I feel like I have to work harder than many of my colleagues to earn the respect of my students. Kids are hesitant to listen to a professor so much younger than most of their other teachers; it’s just a part of life. I was really lucky to get this job, and honestly, I didn’t think that I was going to get it at first. I think that there had been less applicants for the position than there usually are, and yes, it probably helped that my grandfather used to be the Headmaster here, but I don’t dwell on that. I just try my best to be the mentor I can. My life can feel like a bit of a balancing act right now, but I manage. Of course, there’s no way I would be able to take on both this job and raising a daughter if it weren’t for my lovely wife, Elia. She’s an amazing woman, and I’m lucky to have her._

He _is_ lucky to have Elia. They met as college students at a social event hosted by Rhaegar’s mother, one of the Crownland’s big name socialites, and at the suggestion of Elia’s brother, Oberyn, began dating not long after. The daughter of a huge oil tycoon, Elia was a good match for him, as his father liked to remind him, and shortly after they graduated, Rhaegar proposed. The wedding was a lavish one—his mother saw to that—but since then, he and Elia have settled down into a modest enough life, complete with a beautiful daughter.

Yes, he is lucky to have Elia. Beautiful and kind Elia, with her infinite patience and gentle smiles. She is wonderful and caring, and Rhaegar is content to come home to her every day. Content, but not much more. He is satisfied with his life, and pleased to have Elia and Rhaenys as his family, but late at night, when he’s lying awake next to his wife, he can’t help but feel restless.

He aches for some deeper form of passion that he has never had.

As summer draws to a close, Rhaegar prepares himself for his second year of teaching at Harrenhal University. There is a certain amount of stress and pressure that he did not feel last year; this year, he is going to be a faculty advisor for the juniors who have declared majors in his field: sociology. He flips mindlessly through the list of names and frets over whether or not he’ll be a good advisor.

“You’ll do fine,” Elia says soothingly, when he says as much to her. “Think of it as practice for when Rhaenys gets to be a teenager.”

“Hardly teenagers. These kids are twenty, twenty-one,” muses Rhaegar. “But yes, I suppose the experience will be usual for me in a decade or two.”

Elia smiles reassuringly at him, and asks, “Any familiar names?” Harrenhal U, a school they both attended, is just the sort of prestigious academy that often draws legacy families into its sphere.

Rhaegar hums a noise of agreement. “I got a Stark,” he tells Elia. “Brandon’s sister, I think.”

“Brandon Stark,” says Elia, shaking her head and laughing. “Wow, I haven’t thought of Brandon in years. What do you suppose he’s been up to?”

“Last I heard, he had taken over Greytech,” Rhaegar says. “I think his father died a few years back.”

“Well, be sure to ask about him when the school year starts,” Elia tells Rhaegar.

So Rhaegar does. The first week back at Harrenhal U is filled with meetings with his new advisees, arranged alphabetically by last name, and by the time he gets to Stark, Rhaegar feels exhausted. “Lyanna?” He reads the name from a paper when the door opens.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” a playful voice quips, and a part of Rhaegar’s brain registers the _Grease_ reference as he looks up to see a young lady with dark brown hair and familiar grey eyes stepping into his office.

“I’ll do my best not to,” he says with a smile, then extends a hand. “I’m Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Lyanna shakes the offered hand, and says simply, “I know.”

“Of course. You probably got some paperwork with my name on,” says Rhaegar quickly. “They like to keep things very official here—please, have a seat—with the whole faculty advisor thing.” He’s rambling, a habit he thought he had lost sometime during graduate school.

“No, I mean… I’ve heard about you from Brandon,” Lyanna explains and sits down in the open chair.

“Brandon? Yes, Brandon!” exclaims Rhaegar. “We, uh, college friend. You probably knew that already, though. You’re his sister?”

Lyanna laughs at his scattered speech, and Rhaegar silently curses. _All that talk about having to earn your students’ respect? Yeah, not doing so hot right now, buddy._

“I am,” Lyanna replies, breaking into Rhaegar’s thoughts. “And Brandon was really excited when he heard that you were going to be my advisor. He, uh… he had a lot of stories about some of the, uh, less… prudent? … adventures the two of you got up to when you were college.”

“Uh-oh.” Rhaegar frowns at the thought of what Brandon may have told his sister. “Well, it’s been a few years since then, so I’m afraid that my days of drinking and playing the fool are over. But what has Brandon been up to these past few years? I heard he took over Greytech, right?"

Lyanna snorts. “Took over, then took off,” she tells Rhaegar with a roll of her eyes. “Brandon was probably the least certified CEO to ever command anything in the history of ever. He lasted barely a year before handing control over to Ned and eloping to Tyrosh with Ashara.”

“Ashara?” Rhaegar asks in shock. “Brandon eloped with Ashara _Dayne_?”

“Yep.” Lyanna nods. “Believe me, we were all just as surprised as you.”

“No, I just… I mean, Brandon taking a shine to Ashara isn’t all that surprising when you _think_ about it, but I… man, I can’t believe that Arthur _never told me_ that his baby sister ran away with Brandon.”

“Shame, probably,” says Lyanna. “I think Ashara kinda got, like, ex-communicated from the Dayne family when disappeared with Brandon.”

Rhaegar whistles slowly. “Wow. I’m going to have to call Arthur up and chew him out for not telling me about these things, and _then_ I’m going to laugh at him because his precious baby sister eloped with Brandon Stark.” Too late, he wonders if Lyanna will feel insulted at the insinuation that her older brother isn’t considered a catch, but Brandon’s sister just laughs.

“You know, that’s probably the reason why he didn’t tell you,” says Lyanna lightly.

Rhaegar chuckles. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. “But come on, we’re friends.”

“Yeah, I can imagine how that particular conversation between friends goes,” Lyanna says sarcastically. “‘How have you been, Arthur?’ ‘Oh, same old, same old. My sister eloped with Brandon Stark, but everything’s fine, really. How about you? Still one of the youngest college professors in the history ever?’ ‘Oh, yeah, my life is perfect. Wait, what was that about your sister?’”

Rhaegar laughs at her impression of his voice. “You really _are_ Brandon’s sister, aren’t you?” he says wonderingly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Lyanna with a laugh. “That I’m someone you wouldn't want your sister to elope with?”

“No!” Rhaegar is quick to clarify. “No, I mean that… you’ve got a similar sort of spirit. You know. Friendly. Easy to talk to.” _You don’t feel like someone I’m supposed to be advising at all,_ he adds silently.

“Thank you.” Lyanna’s voice is soft and her cheeks seem flushed. “You know, you aren’t as stuffy as Brandon lead me to think you’d be, either."

“Yeah, well… wait, Brandon said what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Reckless" by You Me At Six.
> 
> Tags to be updated as story continues.


	2. 1.2

Rhaegar isn’t sure when his student-advisor meetings with Lyanna stopped taking place in his office and started taking place in coffeehouses around town. _Probably around the same time you starting thinking of Lyanna as a peer and friend rather than as a student,_ he thinks gloomily. Objectively, he _knows_ that she’s eight years younger than him but there’s something about Lyanna Stark that seems older than her twenty-one years. Plus, she’s majoring in the same thing he did, so he finally has someone who he can geek out about sociology with. Even Elia, with her saintlike patience, would begin to fidget after five minutes of his ramblings.

So when Rhaegar hears that the famed culture structuralist Aemon Targaryen—a distant relative of his—is coming to Harrenhal to give a lecture, it isn’t a huge stretch to decide to ask Lyanna if she wants to go after Elia smiles and laughs and says that she’d rather stay home than a pay a babysitter to watch Rhaenys for the evening.

Lyanna’s eyes grow wide when Rhaegar asks her. “Are you serious?” she asks in amazement. “Aemon Targaryen? And you’re giving _me_ the opportunity to hear him talk in person?”

“Well, we’ve had so many discussions about his work that I thought, given that he was coming to Harrenhal, it would be interesting to attend his lecture,” says Rhaegar, and he isn’t sure whether he’s reasoning this through for Lyanna’s sake or his own.

When the night of the lecture comes, Rhaegar finds himself inexplicably nervous. Elia laughs when she sees him anxiously undoing and redoing his bow tie. “You even put _cologne_ on!” she exclaims in amusement. “Is Aemon Targaryen really this big of a deal?”

“Elia, he’s one of the few big names in sociology who’s still actually, you know, alive,” explains Rhaegar, but that’s only half the truth, and when he meets up with Lyanna for dinner before the lecture, he can no longer deny to himself the rest of the truth.

Lyanna is ravishing in a simple yet sophisticated black dress, and Rhaegar is stunned for a minute. She looks every bit the daughter of an old money family and then some. _Gods, you’re beautiful_ , Rhaegar thinks, or maybe he whispers it under his breath. He’s not so sure of his voice anymore.

“You wear a suit nicely,” Lyanna tells him with a smile, and a distant part of Rhaegar’s brain registers that she’s put lipstick on.

“Thank you,” Rhaegar manages to say. Then he forces a bright smile onto his face. “And look at you! You look stunning, Lyanna.”

“Thanks, Rhaegar,” Lyanna says, and for the first time, Rhaegar wonders if it’s telling that she’s always called him by his first name and never Professor Targaryne. “And thank you again for inviting me to this. I still can’t believe that I get to see Aemon Targaryen in person!”

_Elia can’t stand these sorts of things so you were the obvious choice_ , Rhaegar’s mind says, but Rhaegar’s heart doesn’t want to bring his wife up right now. Instead he says, “Well, I’m lucky to be able to go with someone who gets just as excited about these things as I do.”

And she does. Lyanna can hardly talk about anything else than the upcoming lecture throughout all of their dinner. “Ah, sorry, I keep rambling,” she apologizes for the umpteenth time. “I’m not boring you, am I?”

“No, of course not,” Rhaegar assures her, and it’s true. _It’s rather endearing, actually,_ he adds silently.

After the lecture, Rhaegar finds himself taking a stroll with Lyanna by Lake Harrenhal. The cool night air feels exceedingly refreshing after the stuffy heat of the lecture hall.

“Ahh, that was _amazing_!” Lyanna cries out across the lake, throwing her arms out like a small child. “Thank you so much, Rhaegar, for inviting me tonight.”

“It was nothing,” Rhaegar says softly, captivated by the liveliness in Lyanna’s eyes. “My pleasure, really.”

Lyanna smiles at his words, then turns to him suddenly. “Rhaegar, can I ask you a question?” she asks hesitantly.

Rhaegar nods. “Of course. What are teachers for if not for answering their students’ questions?” he jokes.

Lyanna laughs briefly before becoming serious again. “Why… why me?” she asks.

“What?”

“I mean… why did you ask me to this?” she asks. “Why not one of your other advisees? Why not one of your seniors? Why me?”

Rhaegar is caught off guard by the question. He supposes that they were going to have to talk about this sooner or later, but a part of him had hoped that they could have just continued enjoying each other’s company without thinking too deeply about it. “I…” he begins to say, then his voice catches in his throat. Rhaegar coughs, then continues, “I guess I just… I just like you more than my other students.”

Lyanna smiles painfully. “Yes,” she says. “I gathered as much.”

“But?” prompts Rhaegar. “I can hear a ‘but’ in that statement.”

“But I don’t think that’s the whole of it,” says Lyanna quietly. “And I’m right, aren’t I?” she asks, when Rhaegar doesn’t immediately respond.

“I suppose my silence is very telling,” says Rhaegar ruefully.

Lyanna nods. “Very,” she agrees.

“I just… gods, Lyanna, I didn't mean to lead you on or take advantage of you—as, as my student and all—and I _swear_ I didn’t plan on this,” Rhaegar says firmly. “But somewhere along the way, I… I’ve begun to think of you as more than a student, and more than just Brandon’s younger sister, and more than a friend, even.” He bites his lip, then takes the plunge. “I think I may have fallen in love with you.”

His declaration hangs in the air for longer than Rhaegar would have liked.

Then Lyanna closes her eyes and smiles. “Well, you’re honest at least,” she says, and Rhaegar’s heart falls. It had been foolish of him to hope that such a bright young girl like Lyanna would return the affections of an older, married man. “Small conciliation though.”

“Small _conciliation_?” asks Rhaegar in confusion and anger. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You think I _wanted_ to fall in love with someone I know I can never have?” demands Lyanna in a sudden shriek.

Feeling like his breath has been punched from his lungs, Rhaegar stares at Lyanna in shock. “What?”

“I love you too, stupid,” Lyanna mumbles through budding tears.

“Really?”

Lyanna sniffles and glares at him. “Don’t make me say it again,” she mutters.

Rhaegar smiles at her childlike utterance and moves forward to cup her face in his hands. “Lyanna Stark,” he says softly. “Oh, Lyanna,” he whispers, and then he kisses her.


	3. 1.3

Two days later, Rhaegar finds himself in his office with Lyanna, and gods, his office has never felt so small.

“I just… what am I to you?” Lyanna asks in a fearful voice.

“You’re my student,” Rhaegar tells her. “And my advisee. And the girl I’m in love with.”

Lyanna scowls. “Don’t tease,” she says sullenly. “This is new, okay? And I… I just want to know what we’re doing.”

“I don’t know either, Lyanna,” Rhaegar says with a heavy sigh. “I don’t have all the answers, though gods know I wish I did.”

“Are… are we having an affair?” asks Lyanna in a small voice.

Rhaegar bites his lip. “I don’t know,” he admits helplessly. “I want to be with you, really I do. You’re exciting, and you make me feel alive. But Elia.”

“But you’re a married man and a father,” Lyanna finishes for him.

“I don’t want to be Rhaenys’ good-for-nothing father who cheated on her mother,” says Rhaegar. “But I think I’d go mad, seeing you and being around you and wanting you and not having you. Oh god, I’m going to break Elia’s heart. Dammit, Lya, you’re no good for me.”

Lyanna steps forward to cradle Rhaegar’s head in her arms. “Or maybe,” she says. “At the risk of sounding self-important, maybe you just weren’t used to good things until me.”

Rhaegar smiles, delighting in the feel of her fingers running through his hair. “Maybe,” he agrees, and kisses her, softly at first, then with increasing passion. _This girl will be my undoing_ , Rhaegar realizes, as he leans Lyanna against his desk and kisses her fiercely.

They continue meeting like this—tucked away in Rhaegar’s office, out in hidden coffeehouses around the town, sometimes at Lyanna’s apartment when she’s sure her roommate is out. All the sneaking around makes Rhaegar feel young again, which is ridiculous because he’s only twenty-nine but coming home to Elia and Rhaenys can make him feel a lot older. The matrimonial bliss of homemade dinner with his family is nothing compared to the thrill of hearing Lyanna’s laugh and holding her hand.

Rhaegar reaches a startling conclusion one day as he lies in Lyanna’s bed, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. _I could get used to this sight,_ he thinks. _I could wake up every day like this._ The realization causes a sharp pain in his gut, and Rhaegar has to get out of bed and get dressed. _What am I doing?_ he asks himself. “You’re falling in love,” he murmurs, answering his own question.

The sound of keys turning in a lock catches his attention, and Rhaegar can feel fear rising in his throat. “Lya!” he hisses, rushing to shake her awake. “Wake up! I think your roommate’s home!”

“What? Shit.” Lyanna rolls herself out of bed and reaches for her underwear. “Toss me that sweatshirt, will you?” she asks, and Rhaegar complies, watching as she dresses herself in a hurry.

“What now?” he asks quietly, listening as the front door opens.

“Out, out, out!” Lyanna hisses back at him. She grabs a notebook off her messy desk and follows Rhaegar into the living room. “Thanks for stopping by to look at my essay, Professor Targaryen,” she says loudly.

Rhaegar coughs. “Oh,” he says uneasily. “Um, no problem. You write well, though your conclusion could use a bit more work.”

“Oh, hello.” Lyanna’s roommate, a slender girl with long, auburn hair and small, petulant mouth, eyes the pair with curiosity in her eyes and closes the door behind her.

“Lysa!” Lyanna exclaims. “This is my sociology teacher and advisor, Professor Targaryen. He came by to look at a paper due next week. Professor, this is my roommate, Lysa Tully. She’s a senior at Harrenhal U.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Rhaegar says, shaking the redhead’s hand firmly. “Lysa… Tully, was it? Are you related to Catelyn Tully by any chance?”

Lysa’s mouth twists to one side. “I’m her younger sister.”

“No way,” says Rhaegar. “A friend of my mine used to date her. Small world, isn’t it?”

Lyanna laughs, causing both Lysa and Rhaegar to look sharply at her. “Sorry,” she says quickly. “It’s just that… speaking of it being a small world, said friend of Professor Targaryen’s was my older brother.”

Rhaegar slaps his palm against his forehead. “That’s right!” he exclaims. “I keep forgetting that you’re Brandon’s sister!”

“Plus Cat’s now dating one of Lyanna’s _other_ brothers,” Lysa chimes in.

Rhaegar pauses. Lyanna hadn’t told him that. “Really?” he asks

“Yeah, she and Ned have been going steady for a few years now,” says Lyanna with small shrug.

Rhaegar whistles. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, then looks at his wrist. “I should really be going now. It was nice meeting you, Lysa. Keep working on your paper, Lyanna.” 

Lysa arches an eyebrow after him, and once the door has shut, turns to Lyanna and comments, “He wasn’t wearing a watch.”

“What?” asks Lyanna, sounding distracted.

“He looked at his wrist, then said he had to go,” clarifies Lysa. “But he wasn’t wearing a watch.”

Lyanna laughs. “Oh, you know those absent-minded professor types,” she says.

Lysa makes a noise of agreement. “Sure,” she says. “And so handsome too! He’s the young genius professor, isn’t it?”

“Young, genius professor? Yeah, that’s him,” says Lyanna with a laugh.

“Mm, you’re lucky to have him as your faculty advisor,” Lysa says empathetically. “If he were mine, I think I’d be more likely to make it to my meetings on time.”

Lyanna giggles. “Talk about incentive!”


	4. 1.4

Before Rhaegar knows it, the school year is drawing to a close and he still hasn’t figured out what exactly he’s doing with Lyanna. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen next summer when she graduates from Harrenhal U, or even what’s going to happen this summer. When she leaves to go home for break, will she be leaving their relationship— _affair_ , Rhaegar has to remind himself—behind?

After the last day of classes, Lyanna comes to Rhaegar’s office, closes the blinds, and sits on his desk. “Three finals, and then I’m free,” she tells him gleefully, and Rhaegar kisses her before getting down on his knees to press a trail of kisses up her thigh. When he reaches her clit, Lyanna moans loudly and Rhaegar sincerely hopes that is office is at least somewhat soundproof.

He also makes sure to stop by the bathroom to brush his teeth before going home, where he’s greeted by an ecstatic Elia. “Darling, I have wonderful news!” she tells him with a large, dopey grin.

“You do?” asks Rhaegar, alarm and worry flaring through his system.

“Rhaenys is going to be a big sister!” Elia exclaims happily.

Rhaegar stares at her. “What?”

“I’m pregnant, Rhaegar,” Elia says more clearly this time. She seems mildly chuffed by his lack of immediate enthusiasm.

“I… how?”

Elia rolls her eyes. “Really, Rhaegar,” she says. “You _know_ how sex works.”

“Yes, but… aren’t you on the pill?” asks Rhaegar desperately. _The last thing I need is another child to complicate matters more_.

“Oh, I stopped taking it a few months ago,” says Elia simply. “I thought that Rhaenys might want a younger sibling.”

“Shouldn’t you have talked to me about this first?” Rhaegar asks angrily, unable to contain his frustration at this new development.

Elia blinks at him. “You love Rhaenys,” she says. “I thought you’d be happy to have another child.”

“I’m not,” says Rhaegar shortly. “Oh, Elia, I’m sorry, but I just… I’m not sure if I can deal with another kid right now.”

“What’s going on?” Elia asks, suddenly concerned. “Rhaegar, has something happened? You haven’t lost your job, have you?”

Rhaegar sighs wearily. “No, nothing like that,” he says. _Not yet, anyways_ , he thinks gloomily.

“Rhaegar.”

“It’s nothing,” he lies. “I’m just tired from my last day of classes. Let’s talk about this another time, okay?”

Elia frowns. “Okay,” she says, and there’s just the hint of heartbreak in her voice.

Rhaegar goes to bed kicking himself mentally that night, and the next day, he gets up earlier to meet with Lyanna while Elia is still asleep.

“Lyanna,” he says. “I have some news.”

“Good or bad?” asks Lyanna, suspicious of the obvious unhappiness in his voice.

Rhaegar sighs and rubs his temples. “Not good,” he says.

“Well, spit it out,” says Lyanna. “No good just dwelling on things.”

Rhaegar looks at her. He looks at her and tries his best to commit her face to his memory just in case things go sour. “Elia’s pregnant,” he tells her.

Lyanna stares at him. “That isn’t funny, Rhaegar,” she says angrily.

“It really isn’t,” agrees Rhaegar.

“You’re serious?”

“Serious as ever.”

Lyanna chews on her lip. “Shit, man.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do?” asks Lyanna in a hesitant voice.

Rhaegar begins to shake his head, then seeing the look in Lyanna’s eyes, instead asks, “What would you want me to do?”

“I’d want you to do what makes you happy,” is Lyanna’s immediate response.

It touches Rhaegar’s heart to hear that. “I think I know what I should do,” he tells her. “But I want to sleep on it for a few days.”

“Good thinking,” says Lyanna. “And, um, maybe it’d be better if you didn’t seem during those few days.”

Despite his initial instinct to protest, Rhaegar nods. “Probably,” he agrees.

Lyanna goes up on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to Rhaegar’s lips. “Just case,” she says, then turns and hurries away.

_Just in case what?_ Rhaegar wonders, and it isn’t until later, when he’s absent-mindedly helping Rhaenys color a drawing, that he realizes, _Just in case I don’ t choose her._


	5. 1.5

He calls her a few days later.

“Hello?” Her voice is bright and unassuming.

“Lyanna?” His is raw and low.

“Hello, Rhaegar,” she says softly, and he can just picture her sitting and twirling her dark hair around one finger.

He takes a deep breath, then takes the plunge. “I’ve made up my mind,” he says.

There’s a short silence on the other end of the phone line. Then—“It isn’t kind to break a girl’s heart over the phone,” Lyanna says in a tremulous voice.

“That’s okay, because I’m not. I want you, Lyanna,” Rhaegar tells her. “No one but you.”

Lyanna laughs—a weak laugh, and one of relief, but it warms Rhaegar’s heart all the same. “What are you going to tell Elia?” she asks, and perhaps it’s telling that she knows that would tell her before his wife. “And what sort of role do you want to play in the lives of your children?”

“I want to be there for Rhaenys and for… this new child,” Rhaegar says. “But I don’t know if Elia would want that, once I tell her. Which I will. Very soon. And I’ll just have to tell her the truth.”

“The truth?” prompts Lyanna gently.

“That I’ve fallen out of love with her, and I’ve met someone new, and that it wouldn’t be fair to anyone to stay with her and try to force our farce of a marriage anymore,” says Rhaegar.

Lyanna hums. “Very poetic,” she says. “Though I might leave out the ‘farce of a marriage’ part. Sounds a bit mean-spirited.”

Rhaegar laughs and tells her that he will. Then he says good, hangs up, and prepares himself to face his wife. “Elia,” he calls out in a soft voice. He looks through the house and eventually finds her in Rhaenys’ room, reading a book to their young daughter. He sees the two of them together for a second his heart squeezes painfully— _look at what you’re giving up_ , he thinks, but then he thinks of Lyanna Stark’s grey eyes and mischievous smile—and he says, “Elia, I need to tell you something.”

Elia finishes the chapter, then kisses Rhaenys’ forehead good-night. She closes the bedroom door softly behind her as she steps out into the hallway to join Rhaegar. “Okay,” she says. “What’s going on?”

“I… I think we should get a divorce,” Rhaegar says quietly.

“What?” There is no mistaking the shock and hurt in Elia’s voice, and it kills Rhaegar to know that he is the cause of such pain but there’s no going back now.

“Elia, I’m so sorry, but I just… I’m not in love with you anymore,” he says. “And I’ve met someone new, and it’s not fair to pretend that this marriage is working anymore.”

Elia is frozen so perfectly that it worries Rhaegar for a second, then she breaks her composure. “Really, Rhaegar?” she asks furiously. “You had to wait until I got pregnant to start sleeping around behind my back?”

“I, ah, I was actually already… in love with someone else when you told me,” he says and closes his eyes against the sight of his heartbroken wife.

“You bastard,” she says, shaking her head coldly. “Who is she? Have you been _fucking_ one of your students, Mr. Big Shot Professor? Or has Jon Connington finally gotten into your pants like he’s always dreamed of?”

Rhaegar knows that it the pain that’s making her speak so cruelly, but her words still sting. “Don’t talk about Jon that way,” he says stiffly.

“So it _is_ one of your students, then?” asks Elia angrily.

“No use denying it, I guess,” Rhaegar admits.

Elia spits at him. “You disgust me,” she says coldly. “You want a divorce? You got one! But don’t think for a second that you get to be a part of my life, or Rhaenys’ life, or this child’s life, after this!” She gestures fiercely at her belly as she glares at her husband. “You get your divorce, and I get custody. I’ll take the kids to Dorne, raise them proper, and Oberyn will help. It will be good. And you, Rhaegar Targaryen, you can have your _whore_.”

Rhaegar wonders what Elia would say if she knew that his “whore” was Brandon Stark’s younger sister, but he doesn’t tell her that. “Okay,” he says hoarsely. And, “I’m really sorry, Elia.” And, “I don’t blame you.”

And he doesn’t. There is absolutely nothing unpredictable or inexcusable about Elia’s reaction to finding out that her husband of seven years and the father of her children has been cheating for the past however many months.

Elia glowers at him, dark eyes sparkling with tears. “Get out,” she says.

Rhaegar does. He grabs the suitcase that he had prepared and heads outside with one last, longing look at the house and all that it’s meant over the years. Then he calls Lyanna and asks if she thinks Lysa would be okay with him crashing at her place for a while.

“I thought we were trying to keep this thing on the low down,” says Lyanna.

Rhaegar doesn’t respond.

“That bad, huh? Well, it’s probably okay,” Lyanna muses. “Finals are over tomorrow, so people are beginning to leave for the summer anyways.”

“Thanks, Lya,” Rhaegar says tiredly.

Upon reaching Lyanna’s apartment, Rhaegar collapses onto the couch. Lyanna holds him silently and lays her head against his shoulder. He can hear her heartbeat, a steady and comforting _ba-bump_ that manages to bring a small smile to his lips despite everything. Lyanna strokes his hair and he turns his face upwards to kiss her gently, and in that moment, Rhaegar knows he has made the right choice.


	6. 2.1

Eddard and Catelyn wait at the airport with Benjen, who had gotten out of college a few weeks earlier. “I can’t wait to tell Lyanna about our engagement,” Eddard tells Catelyn happily. “She’ll be so excited. She’s loved you for ages, Cat.”

“I hope so,” says Catelyn nervously. “Considering Brandon, I’m not sure how she’ll feel about another one of her brothers getting married.”

“Well, we haven’t run away to Tyrosh yet, so I think we’ll be fine,” Eddard teases and gently tugs on a lock of Catelyn’s red hair.

Catelyn laughs and bats Eddard’s hand away. “Oh, stop it, Ned.”

“Do you think her plane’s late?” asks Benjen suddenly.

Eddard turns to his younger brother, nineteen years old and just back from his first year at Nightwatch College. “Planes get delayed all the time, Benji,” he says. “I wouldn’t worry.”

“I’m not _worrying_ ,” Benjen insists. “I just… never mind. It’s probably nothing.” He shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets.

Eddard knows he should ask Benjen about his not worry, because he knows that there are parts of their sister than only Benjen knows—just as there were parts of Lyanna that only Brandon knew, before he eloped with Ashara Dayne)—but Benjen _did_ say that it was probably nothing, and besides, it’s easier to wrap an arm around his new fiancée and feel content with his life as they wait for Lyanna’s plane to arrive.

“Her plane _must be_ late,” says Catelyn, after checking her watch for the third time. “She should’ve gotten in at least half an hour ago.”

Then Benjen’s cellphone buzzes, and the younger Stark brother pulls it out of his pocket. “Oh!” he exclaims, beginning to read the text. “It’s from Lyanna.”

“Ask where she is,” Eddard says with a laugh, but then he sees how Benjen’s brow furrows as he reads the long text message.

“Benjen, what is it?” asks Catelyn, sounding nearly as concerned as Benjen looks.

“Um.” Benjen licks his lips nervously, then looks at Eddard. “Lyanna’s… not coming back to Winterfell.”

Eddard swears under his breath. “And she didn’t have the decency to tell us this _before_ we were made to pick her up that airport?” he asks. “Why’s she staying at school for the summer anyways?”

“Um,” says Benjen again. “She’s not.”

“What?”

“She, uh… she’s in Volantis,” says Benjen.

Eddard stares at him. “What the hell is she doing in Volantis?” he demands, because dammit! This feels like Brandon all over again.

“House-shopping?” offers Benjen.

“What? Give me that!” Fed up with the non-answers, Catelyn snatches the phone from Benjen’s hand and quickly scans the text. “Well, Ned, it looks like your sister has run off with one of her professors.”

Eddard’s jaw drops. “What?!”

“She has fallen in love with Rhaegar Targaryen and they’re leaving the continent in order to start a life together,” Catelyn reads from the phone.

“Rhaegar Targaryen,” repeats Eddard in shock. “She ran away with _Rhaegar Targaryen_ , Rhaella’s wonderboy genius son?”

“He was her faculty advisor,” Benjen chimes in helpfully.

Eddard grits his teeth and grabs Benjen’s phone from Catelyn. “What the hell are you doing?” he barks, when Lyanna picks up.

“Ned, I’m sorry,” his sister says softly. 

“Don’t lie to me, Lyanna!” shouts Eddard. “You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you? You’ve managed to outdo Brandon by choosing to run off with a _married_ man nearly a decade older than you! Did you learn _nothing_ from the fallout after Brandon’s elopement?”

“I learned how he felt,” says Lyanna mulishly. “And I understand why he did it now. Why he eloped with Ashara.”

Eddard seethes. “So tell me,” he says furiously. “Make me understand why you’ve followed in Brandon’s footsteps of eloping to Essos.”

Lyanna sighs. “Oh, Ned,” she says. “You’d never understand.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re made from different stuff than Brandon and I are,” says Lyanna. “And you’ve fallen in love with a wonderful person who you’re allowed to love. But Brandon wasn’t supposed to love Ashara and I’m not supposed to love Rhaegar. Only we do. And Westeros isn’t always the most forgiving country when it comes to impropriety.”

“And Essos is?”

Lyanna laughs sadly. “Rhaegar and I both come from old school money in Westeros,” she says. “But no one knows who we are in Volantis. And it’s okay for me to love him in Volantis. We’re okay in Volantis.”

“Mom’s going to have a heart attack when she finds out,” says Eddard.

“I know,” says Lyanna.

“And she’s going to bemoan the fact that Dad died,” Eddard continues, “leaving her to deal with two rebellious children on her own. And then she’s going to freak out and get paranoid that Benjen will _also_ take it in his mind to run away to Essos with an illicit lover, and I’ll have to talk her out of taking Benjen out of school, and press will have a hay day, and Greytech will suffer, once again, from the reckless actions of my siblings.”

“Ned, I’m sorry,” Lyanna repeats.

Eddard scowls. “You should be,” he says sullenly. “Plus, you’ve totally overshadowed my announcement that I proposed to Cat and she said yes.”

Lyanna squeals excitedly. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really, but now I suppose that Mom will forbid from inviting either you _or_ Brandon to our wedding,” says Eddard gloomily. “We want our marriage to be as free from scandal as possible.”

“Of course you do,” says Lyanna with a laugh. “You’re dear, old, plodding Ned. But don’t worry. I’ll be sure to send you two something lovely and exotic from Volantis as a wedding present.”

“You’ve just eloped with a married man, and you’re telling me not to worry?” Eddard asks incredulously.

“Not married for long,” says Lyanna. “He and Elia have already began working through the divorce proceedings, and anyways, we didn’t _elope_. I don’t think either of us are super keen to jump into matrimony. We need wedding rings to know we belong to each other, you know?”

Eddard sighs. “Lyanna,” he says. “You’re a foolish romantic, but your my sister, so I guess that means I have to love you.”

“I love you too, Ned,” Lyanna says with a quiet laugh.

“Though I won’t envy Rhaegar when Brandon finds out that you’ve run away with one of his old college friends.”

“Shit, that’s right!” exclaims Lyanna. “I guess that means I shouldn’t tell Brandon that we’re in Volantis when I mention it to him.”

Eddard laughs. “That might be wise,” he says.

“Thanks, Ned,” says Lyanna. “Now, can you put Benji on for a second?”

Eddard complies, and when Benjen finally gets his phone back, the first thing he says is, “Will it be worth it?”

“What?”

“Will being with Rhaegar be wroth pissing off Mom and Ned and insulting the Martells by effectively stealing one of their golden Targaryen from their daughter and all of that?” he asks.

Lyanna hums quietly. “I think so,” she says. “I love him, Benjen.”

“I know,” says Benjen. And, “Still, be careful, okay?” And, “I love you, Lyanna.”

“Love you too, Benji. I have to go now, though, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Benjen smiles sadly. “Okay,” he says, and when he hangs up, he sees Eddard and Catelyn holding tight to each other’s hands, and he’s never felt so alone in the world before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've stuck pretty close to the characters' age differences according to canon, but I did change a few things. In short:  
> \- Rhaegar, Elia, Brandon, Arthur, and Jon Connington are all roughly the same age.  
> \- Eddard, Catelyn, and Ashara are roughly three years younger than Rhaegar & co.  
> \- Lyanna is four years younger than Ned (Lysa is one year older than Lyanna)  
> \- Benjen is two years younger than Lyanna


	7. 2.2

“I’ll kill him,” Oberyn says for maybe the hundredth time.

Elia laughs and affectionately pets her brother’s arm. “No, but thank you,” she says. “Once the divorce is final, I just want to forget that I ever knew a man named Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Oberyn laughs with her, then places a hand over hers. “I’m glad you’re back in Dorne, Elia,” he says softly.

“Me too,” says Elia. “It’ll be good for Rhaenys and the baby.”

“There’s no better place for a child to grow up than in the Water Gardens,” Oberyn agrees.

Elia smiles down at her swollen belly. “My child,” she coos. “My children.” She turns to smile at her brother. “And they’ll have you and Doran for uncles, and plenty of cousins, and what more could I ask for my children?”

“You could ask for a good father,” says Oberyn grouchily.

“Well, I traded Rhaegar for a child support paycheck every month,” Elia points out. “Which suits me just as fine.”

Oberyn looks at his sister. He loves Elia. She is smart and caring and beautiful. “Rhaegar was a fool for giving you up,” he says.

“I was the bigger fool for marrying him the first place,” says Elia. “In retrospect, I’m glad he cheated.”

“Really?” There is no mistaking the disbelief in Oberyn’s voice.

“Mm, yes,” Elia says. “Because I’ve realized that it’s better for us to not be married, and since he was unfaithful and honest about his infidelity, I had the upper hand in the divorce proceedings, you see.”

Oberyn chuckles, shaking his head with amused respect. Not only is his sister smart and caring and beautiful, she is clever and resourceful as well. “It’s good to have you back, Elia,” he says, and his voice is more loving than Elia has ever heard it before.

She hugs him tight then. “It’s good to be back,” she murmurs. “I feel more alive than I have in years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people were hoping that the Martells would go all berserk/revenge on Rhaegar and Lyanna, but I think it's better that Elia take the high road, move on, and be happier for not clinging to old ghosts. Oberyn's right; she's a smart lady. (I actually rather like Elia Martell, and since she got some a terribly portrayal in earlier chapters, I wanted to show her in a more positive light now.)


	8. 2.3

It’s barely mid June when Rhaegar sees a number he hasn’t seen in years pop up on his caller I.D. Taking a moment to steal himself for what he knows must be coming next, he answers his phone with forced calm, “Hello?”

“You and Lyanna, huh?” Brandon’s voice is tight with rage.

Rhaegar sighs. “Tell me, Brandon,” he says wearily. “How is this any different from how you eloped with Arthur’s younger sister?”

“It’s different because I wasn’t her teacher, you sick fuck!” shouts Brandon.

“Brandon—”

“And I wasn’t married either!” Brandon continues furiously. “Dammit, Rhaegar, did it really have to be Lya? My baby sister? Really?”

Rhaegar says, “It wasn’t about you, Brandon.”

“What?”

Rhaegar sighs again. “To answer your question,” he says. “Yes, it did really have to be Lyanna. I wouldn’t have left Elia for anyone other than her, because it just so happens that I am in love with Lyanna, and my love for her would be unchanged whether she was your sister, or Twyin Lannister’s daughter, or the Stranger himself.”

Brandon swears loudly, then he shouts that he ought to break Rhaegar’s back, then there’s the noise of a scuffle, and suddenly Ashara is on the phone. “Hi, Rhaegar,” she says, and her voice is a bizarre mix of breathless and stiff, and that’s when Rhaegar remembers how Ashara used to look adoringly up at Elia when they were younger.

“Hello, Ashara,” he says. “How’s married life with Brandon in Tyrosh?”

Ashara laughs. “We’re happy,” she says, then amends, “Well, Brandon isn’t so much at the moment, but he’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, yeah. He’ll get over himself quick enough once he sees that you make Lyanna happy and that you won’t hurt her,” says Ashara, adding severely, “You won’t hurt her, will you, Rhaegar?”

“No, of course not!” protests Rhaegar.

“Because your track record isn’t exactly the cleanest right now,” she says.

Rhaegar nods. “I know,” he says. “But I love her in ways that I never loved Elia, and I’ll never stop being sorry for how I handled things with Elia, but I don’t think I’ll ever regret the decision to come to Volantis with Lyanna.”

“Volatnis, huh?” muses Ashara. “That’s not too far from Tyrosh. Maybe we could do Thanksgiving together.”

“Oh, I’ll give him something to be thankful for,” Brandon grumbles in the background, and despite his words, Rhaegar can tell that he already sounds less angry than he did when they were on the phone together.

“Lyanna would like that, I think,” says Rhaegar. “Thanks, Ashara.”


	9. 3.1

When Lyanna emerges from the bathroom, she can just make out Rhaegar’s form relaxing on their deck in the dying light. The setting sun glints off his silvery-blond hair, giving him the effect of being a haloed saint. Lyanna smiles to herself at the thought, then slides open the deck to door to join Rhaegar.

“I’ll never tire of the Volantis sunset,” Rhaegar says in a wistful tone.

“You always were a sucker for beautiful things,” agrees Lyanna in a soft voice.

Rhaegar turns to her with a concerned look in his violet eyes. “You didn’t come out here just to admire the sunset,” he guesses. “What’s going on?”

“Ah, you know me too well,” says Lyanna with a quiet laugh. And it’s true; they’ve long since perfected the art of listening to each other’s silences and knowing what the other isn’t saying.

“What’s on your mind, Lya?” Rhaegar asks.

Lyanna perches herself on the arm of Rhaegar’s lounge chair, takes a deep breath, then says, “I’m pregnant.”

Rhaegar stares at her. “I… how?” he asks, suddenly and cruelly reminded of another conversation with another woman that went much along these lines.

“I’m guessing a few months ago,” says Lyanna. “When the condom tore a little. Remember?”

Rhaegar does. He also remembers believing that there wouldn’t be any consequences, because it’s just the one time, right? “What do you want to do?” he asks instead.

“I’m not sure. I’m a little scared,” Lyanna confesses.

“That’s perfectly understandable,” says Rhaegar. He wraps his arms around Lyanna and kisses her temple softly. “What are you scared of?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be a good mother,” says Lyanna. “And I don’t know if… are you ready to be a father again?”

Rheagar smiles, and the expression looks bittersweet on his face. “I could be,” he says. “Maybe. But the choice isn’t mine. It’s yours, Lyanna. And whether you choose to keep the kid, or go for adoption, or abortion even, I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

Lyanna closes her eyes then, and she imagines a beautiful baby with Rhaegar’s hair and her eyes, or maybe her hair and Rhaegar’s eyes, or some other cross between the two of them. Opening her eyes, she looks at the man beside her, looks at the love on his face, and says, “Maybe we could try being parents. We could make it work, I think.”

“Maybe,” Rhaegar agrees and kisses Lyanna tenderly.

It isn’t until a few weeks later, when Lyanna is on the phone with Benjen, that she realizes that she’s stopped thinking of her impending motherhood as “maybe” and started thinking of it as a definite. She isn’t sure when the switch happened, but she’s okay without pinpointing the exact moment she accepted her pregnancy.

Benjen finishes telling her about his junior year at Nightwatch College. “And I even made it through without deciding to elope to Essos!” he jokes. “Mom was so proud.”

Lyanna laughs. “I’ll bet she was,” she says. Then she says, “Listen, Benji, I have some crazy news, but you can’t tell Mom, okay? I want to tell her myself.”

“Okay,” Benjen agrees immediately.

“I’m going to be a mother,” Lyanna tells him in an excited whisper.

“Really?” asks Benjen eagerly. “Wow. This must be the year of the fertile Starks.”

Lyanna laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, Catelyn’s also pregnant,” Benjen tells her. “Barely twenty-one and I’ll be an uncle twice over by the time the year’s over.

“Ned’s gonna be a father?” asks Lyanna with a shriek of laughter. “Dear, old, plodding Ned? A dad? Oh, this is great!”

“Oh,” says Benjen softly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Ned wanted to tell you himself. You better surprised when does, okay?”

Lyanna laughs louder. “Okay, Benji,” she says.

And she does. When Eddard tells her “I’m going to be a father!” in a proud voice, Lyanna does her best gasp of shock and exclaims, “Me too!”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, I’m going to be a mother,” Lyanna corrects herself. “Not a father. _Rhaegar’s_ going to be a father.”

“You’re pregnant?” asks Eddard in a funny voice.

“Yeah,” says Lyanna happily. “Oh, this is too perfect. Our children will be of age and they’ll always have each other cousins, and Benjen was right, it really is the year of the fertile Starks.”

The fertile Starks, and the birthing Starks, for six months later, Lyanna and Catelyn go into labor with hours of each other, though neither know it at the time.

Rhaegar stays at Lyanna’s side throughout the whole order. He clutches her hand in the hospital when her contractions begin and she begins to sob with pain and exhaustion. And when the doctor places a squalling baby into Lyanna’s arms, Rhaegar crouches beside her to gaze wonderingly at this human being that they have brought into the world.

They decide to call him Jon—a name that holds meaning as an old, familiar friend to both their families.

“He has your look,” Rhaegar comments and gently touches Jon’s nose.

Lyanna laughs weakly. “Yes,” she agrees. “He looks just like Ned, doesn’t he?”

“No, he’ll grow up handsomer than his uncle,” Rhaegar teases. “He is _my_ son, after all.”

Nevertheless, they both agree that Jon looks so much a Stark that it should be his surname. “And ‘Jon Stark’ has a better ring to it than ‘Jon Targaryen’ does anyways,” says Lyanna. “Your last name’s too much of a mouthful.”

Brandon and Ashara come down from Tyrosh to help Lyanna and Rhaegar finish decorating Jon’s baby room. “Ned says that Cat also gave birth to a son,” Brandon tells Lyanna, after checking his cellphone. “Named him Robb.”

“After Robert, I’m guessing,” says Lyanna, shaking her head and smiling.

“Robert Baratheon is not the sort of man I’d want my son emulating,” Ashara says with a laugh.

“No, he’s really not,” Lyanna agrees emphatically. “I can’t believe I ever found him attractive.”

Rhaegar pauses in rocking Jon. “Wait, what?”

Brandon guffaws. “Wait, Lya didn’t tell you this story?” he asks.

“It’s really not that exciting,” says Lyanna, rolling her eyes. “I was a freshman in high school and he was the handsome senior who happened to be best friends with my big brother.”

“Sounds like a cliche,” Rhaegar muses.

Lyanna nods. “It was!” she says. “My crush on Robert was _such_ a cliche.”

“Except that Robert also found you attractive,” Brandon chimes in. “God, I’ll never stop regretting the fact that I was at college and missed Ned’s big meltdown when he found you and Robert kissing in the backyard.”

“Yeah, Ned stopped inviting Robert over after that,” Lyanna remembers with a chuckle. 

Rhaegar smiles at the way Lyanna and Brandon reminisce over childhood memories. Looking at Jon, he thinks that maybe his son should have a sibling, someone he can love and play with. His mind jumps to Rhaenys for a minute, and he wonders if Elia would be okay with their daughter meeting their half-brother. Then his attention is dragged back to the present by Lyanna’s shriek of laughter as Brandon tries to ruffle her hair.

_Family,_ he thinks. _This is my family._

And he is so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Benjen's siblings call him "Benji." (I think it has a better ring to it and sounds more affectionate than his canon nickname of "Ben.")
> 
> I'm also skipping forward a year or two in the story.


	10. 3.2

Jon Stark is very much his mother’s child.

He shares Lyanna’s boldness and her wild passion for living. He delights in the parties his parents throw for their Volantene friends, and when Lyanna and Rhaegar decide to sell their house in order to purchase a sailboat and travel the seas, Jon is nothing short of thrilled to be included in the adventure. He chats animatedly with Myrish sailors and befriends a parrot in Braavos. He feels that no other child has a life as lucky as his.

Then their boat encounters a storm just off the Valyrian coast, and when Lyanna finds herself standing outside of Jon’s hospital room and clinging tight to Rhaegar’s hand, she realizes that the way they live is no life for a child. “What are we doing?” she asks Rhaegar in a frightened voice. 

She cries harder than she’s ever remembered crying once Jon is in stable enough condition for them to be allowed inside his room. “Baby,” she whispers, and reaches out to gently touch Jon’s hand. There’s an IV attached, and a tangle of wires and tubing all across the hospital bed, and it breaks Lyanna’s heart. “I am so sorry, sweetheart.”

“We can’t keep doing this,” says Rhaegar in a low voice. “We can’t keep living like this, not with Jon.”

Lyanna stares at her unconscious son, then squeezes her eyes shut. “What was I thinking?” she asks in despair. “Me? A mother?” She laughs, and it sounds harsh and sad and too young for someone who has come this close to losing her only child.

Rhaegar leans his forehead against Lyanna’s and whispers, “We’ll get through this, Lya. Jon’s alive, and for now, that’s all that matters.”

“I tried my best to be a good mother,” says Lyanna bitterly, “but bringing a five-year-old boy on a voyage around the world? What sort of reckless parent would think _that’s_ a good idea?”

“Then we’ll stop traveling,” Rhaegar promises, but even as the worlds leave his mouth, he knows it’s a lie. There’s too much spirit and energy in Lyanna for his partner to be happy settling down in one place. “By the Seven,” he whispers. “What are we doing?”

Later that night, when they are lodged in a nearby hotel but their baby boy is still in the hospital, Lyanna curls tight against Rhaegar’s side and says, “Maybe we shouldn’t be the ones to raise Jon.” She says, “I don’t think we’ll do a very good job.” And, “Jon deserves a better mother than me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Rhaegar says and kisses Lyanna’s dark hair.

The next morning finds Lyanna on the phone with her older brother. “I’m a terrible mother,” she confesses sadly. “Do you think it would be all right for Jon to live with Mom for a few years?”

Eddard sighs, low and thoughtful, and the sound just barely covers the noises of Catelyn gently reminding Robb not to pull his sister’s hair. “I think that Mom is probably too old to have a five-year-old grandchild depending on her for his wellbeing and care,” he says. “But… well, I’d have to talk to Cat, but maybe Jon could stay with us while you and Rhaegar figures things out.”

“Would you really?” asks Lyanna in relieved voice.

“We’ll see.”


	11. 3.3

“You’re sending me away?” There is no mistaking the confusion and hurt in Jon’s voice, and Lyanna’s heart breaks at the sight of his big, grey eyes staring mournfully at her. “Why?”

“Sweetie, it’ll be good for you,” Lyanna says. “You’ll be safe and happy with Uncle Ned, and he has a boy, just the same age as you. You can be friends.”

Jon’s lower lip trembles. “I don’t _want_ Uncle Ned! He’s old and he plods!” he cries. “I want to stay with you and Dad!”

Lyanna presses a kiss to his forehead. “Baby, I know,” she says. “But I need to know that you won’t be in danger,” she says. “And I’m no good playing things safe,” she says.

“We’re doing this because we love you,” Rhaegar tells Jon.

_Do you?_ Jon’s haunting grey eyes seem to ask. “I don’t want things to change,” the young boy says plaintively.

“Oh, Jon,” says Lyanna. “Change is just another part of life, but it’s not always a bad thing. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

“I don’t want to,” says Jon, and Lyanna isn’t sure if he’s talking about going to live with Ned or understanding why change isn’t always bad. She’s not sure if it matters right now.

“Never doubt that I love you,” she says and, careful of the tubes still connecting Jon to the hospital monitor, sweeps her son into a tight hug. “I love you so much, Jon. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jon says, but he doesn’t sound so certain. 

Lyanna pulls back to look at him, grey eyes meeting grey eyes. “I love you,” she repeats.

“I love you too, Mom,” says Jon. “But I still don’t want to live with Uncle Ned.”

Lyanna laughs tearfully. “Just wait until you get to Winterfell,” she tells Jon, and Rhaegar doesn’t miss the way her voice softens when she talks about her childhood hometown. “I think you’ll like it.”

Jon’s lips tighten and he doesn’t say anything. Then he shakes his head. “No, I won’t like it.”

Lyanna ruffles his dark hair. “You might be surprised,” she says.

But Lyanna is the one who is surprised, when Jon is discharged from the hospital the next day, and she finds that she can hardly recognize her son. Gone is the happy, laughing child whom she and Rhaegar brought with them to Myr and Braavos. Instead, he’s replaced by a silent and sad-eyed boy who barely raises his gaze off the ground.

Their flight to Westeros is unusually quiet. Rhaegar reaches over at one point to tousle Jon’s hair, but his son just stares moodily out the window and doesn’t respond. Lyanna’s heart clenches painfully, wondering if Jon’s near-death experience has left him alive only to kill his spirit instead. _Baby,_ she thinks and watches Jon scowl at his tray table.

Benjen is waiting for them by baggage claim when they land. He greets Lyanna with a hug, Rhaegar with a handsake, and Jon with kind smile and kinder words. “Ned asked me to pick you up,” he tells Lyanna.

“Oh? Did my baby brother finally get himself a driver’s license?” teases Lyanna.

“Well, what with Ned settling down and starting a family and you and Brandon being in Essos, there had to be _someone_ Mom could send on errands for marmalade jam from the grocery store at eleven o’clock at night,” Benjen teases back, then moves to help them load their luggage into the trunk of his car.

As they drive through the Winterfell countryside, Lyanna has to surpress a shiver. She hasn’t been since she was twenty, and the sudden rush of memories is overwhelming. There’s the intersection where she and Benjen ran a lemonade stand one summer. There’s the tree that Brandon crashed into the first time their parents let him drive her in his car. There’s the pond Ned and Robert accidentally walked in on her and Dacey Mormont skinny-dipping in during high school.

So caught up in own thoughts, Lyanna barely notices the running commentary Benjen is giving Jon. “Your mom used to love climbing the trees in that forest,” he tells his young nephew. “Broke her arm falling out of one when she was eight. Cried so loudly Dad thought a bear had gotten her.”

Despite his determination to stay miserable, Jon allows one corner of his lip to raise slightly, just giving off the hint of a smile before furrowing his brow and looking more disgruntled than ever. Rhaegar laughs at his son’s persistence and ruffles his hair affectionately. “Maybe I’ll take you to Blackwater Bay sometime,” he tells Jon. “And you can see where I grew up.”

“Or,” says Jon in a sullen voice, “you could take me back home to Volantis.”

Instead, they finally arrive, and Lyanna finds herself gasping aloud. “You never told me that Ned and Catelyn moved in with Mom!” she accuses Benjen.

Benjen smiles. “They didn’t,” he says. “Mom wanted to move into a retirement home—said the house felt too big with Dad and all of us gone—but still wanted to keep it in family, so she got Ned and Cat to move in after she moved out.”

“How come no one tells me these things?” asks Lyanna curiously.

“I don’t know,” says Benjen with a shrug. “I guess we all assumed you were so busy with your life in Essos, that life in Westeros didn’t really matter to you.”

“Of course your lives matter to me,” Lyanna says. “You’re my family.”

Eddard greets her with a kiss to her cheek, and even Catelyn gives her a tight hug. Lyanna has to admit that she’s a little surprised that her sister-in-law agreed to letting Jon live with them for a few years. _After all of Ned’s “we want our marriage to be scandal free,” he’s taking in the son of his screwball little sister,_ she thinks with grim good humor.

“You must be Jon,” says Eddard, crouching down to look his young nephew in the face.

Jon squirms at the sudden introduction, and clings to Rhaegar’s leg.

“I’m Ned,” Eddard says and extends a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Go ahead and shake Uncle Ned’s hand,” Rhaegar urges his son.

Shyly, Jon raises his gaze to look at this uncle, and oh! His eyes look just like Mom’s. “Hi Uncle Ned,” he says quietly and shakes Eddard’s hand.

“This is my wife, your Auntie Catelyn,” Eddard tells Jon.

“Hello, Jon.” Catelyn smiles warmly, then turns to head into the living room. “Let me get Robb and Sansa so you can meet your cousins.”

Jon gives Lyanna a stricken look, like, _Cousins? What if they don’t like me?_

“They’ll like you,” Lyanna whispers and smiles reassuringly.

And they do.

Robb’s blue eyes light up with excitement when he sees Jon. “It’ll be just like having a brother!” he exclaims eagerly.

Sansa is less exuberant, but then again, she’s only two years old. Still, her eyes, the same shade of blue as Roob’s and Catelyn’s, seem happy when sees Jon. “Dadda!” she says and points between her cousin and father. And that’s when Lyanna notices, for the first time, just how similar her son and her brother look. 

“Why’s she saying that?” Jon asks uncertainly.

“It’s because you look like a miniature version of your uncle, kiddo,” Rhaegar tells him.

Jon looks at Eddard, head cocked to one side like he’s studying him to figure out whether he’ll be handsome later on in life.

“You look like you could be his father, Ned,” Lyanna tells her brother and tries not to shiver. It feels too much like an omen.

Eddard ignores Lyanna’s comment and crouches down to look Jon in the eye again. “Welcome to the family, Jon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented; I really appreciate the time and though you put into your commentary. Thank you.


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